Wings of judgement
by Iseria Dweller
Summary: Murrue questions her inner demons on the gravity of pain. Working through nightmares & memories, the Archangel captain could only gaze helplessly at the situation unfolding before her. Truly, the fallen angels are always at the mercy of the universe itself.


_In a delusional battle against your own sanity, should you run..?  
Or stay and fight..?_

Her first answer was to stay and fight. Upon betrayal, her answer switched to the first decision. But she was so sick and tired of running away. Throughout the whole of the first arc of the war, the only thing she did was to run.

Run because the coordinators were against the Naturals. Run because the Naturals wanted to make use of the Archangel and its technology. Run because they were a rougue ship standing on neutral grounds and supporting the Attha's family's policy of neutrality.

She forced her crew to run along with her in the insane race to escape. The only thoughts on the minds of the people working under the command of the inexperienced captain was if they could even wake up and see another sunrise. There was no sunrise in space though.

The only thing visible was a blanket of stars, scattered against a background of black space. God only knows what existed beyond that final frontier. Murrue Ramius didn't know anything but to run and terminate anyone who stood in her and her crew's way of freedom.

But eventually, she knew that one day, she would have to cease her endless run.

That day came a bit too soon.

And she blamed it all on the amethyst eyed captain of the Dominion. It was rather ironic that back in the military academy, people always labeled her and Natarle as two opposite sides of the coin. Black and white, day and night. When Natarle was made captain of the new Archangel class battleship, codenamed as the Dominion, Murrue wondered if it was the Earth Alliance's way of indirectly mocking her.

The Dominion was said to be a rank in the order of Angels who would always question the orders of the Archangels, in a famous play based on the latest testaments of an ancient religion. Not that Murrue cared to check it out beforehand. The full irony of the name only hit her when she was in one of her usual episodes of attempting to chase after sleep in bed one night.

Murrue was the fallen Archangel who'd woefully judged that the God in this little war game was unworthy, thus leading her to lead an army of angels against the self proclaimed God Himself.

It was partly because of her that the first war ended. Her ship was looked upon as the bringer of Justice. Natarle was then the Dominion, a pawn for the black king on the chessboard. She questioned Murrue countless of times and defied orders.

She still remembered that look in the younger woman's amethyst eyes. Through Kira Yamato, the boy who was made into a warrior out of threat, the captain of the Archangel was reminded of the woman who she still held a grudge against in her heart.

_Why did she had to leave her like that?_

Two years has passed since then and yet, Murrue could still recall the event that changed her life.

The fallen Archangel found that the Dominion and the Angel of Death, Azrael, was guilty of so many sins. All who dared opposed thehand of justice who judged those worthy of entering paradise, would be slain.

And all the Angels who dared challenged and questioned the true meaning of Justice, would be sent back to the depths of Hell where Lucifer sits upon a throne of blood in all her sinful glory.

Natarle Badgiruel knew what she was guilty of and Murrue Ramius could only imagine the final state of the woman who'd commanded the Archangel by her side, before the judgement was being passed down rightfully. Sometimes, Murrue woke up to the sounds of Natarle screaming along with her to fire the lonhengrin cannons. It was their last battlecry together before the world went dark for Natarle.

Natarle's death and the destruction of the Dominion also took away the Hawk of Endymion. Murrue debated why she still held that particular grudge for Natarle until today.

Was it because she took away Mwu along with her death?

Or was it because Murrue had procrastinated in telling Natarle what was on her heart?

Murrue attempted to love someone else but it all failed when she found that she didn't want anyone else but the Dominion who'd fallen from grace.

Her little Dominion had probably taken over Lucifer's throne somewhere in the depths of Hell with the Angel of Death by her side as her King.

What the Archangel of Justice didn't know was that the Angels were inferior in rank...

As compared to the Gods and Goddess who lived in the final levels of Heaven.

And now here she was, challenging against the Goddess of knowledge.

Murrue tried not to let her fear surface rapidly as she pleaded for the Minerva to surrender. The memory of what happened to the Dominion was still fresh in her mind. Murrue didn't want another judgement like that. Talia Gladys might have a famous reputation of being an easy person to push over but after getting a taste of what the Minerva had to offer to the Archangel, Murrue Ramius forgot one of the most important rule of a soldier.

_It was a rather sunny day in the Earth Alliance academy and Murrue had first gotten her taste of blood upon her lips when she ganged up on Natarle. Murrue had gotten so used to the fact that she was a chief mechanic who was supposedly more tougher than the average grunt in the military, she'd forgotten that not everyone who appeared frail was an easy fish to get hooked onto your fishing rod. _

_Natarle Badgiruel was the first woman in Murrue's life who'd opened her eyes. The young combat commander grabbed Murrue's arms and shoved her against a wall in the middle of a sparring match. Murrue couldn't understand how in the world did a frail looking pale woman like her avoid every one of her attacks without even breaking a sweat or ruining her stiff, white uniform. _

_The younger woman pulled Murrue up and restrained the mechanic against her body. One of Natarle's arms held a steel grip against her wrists and one of her legs was wrapped around Murrue's ankles, making sure that Murrue couldn't move. _

_And even if Murrue was capable of moving, she found it impossible. For the first time ever, Murrue understood the meaning of fear as the younger woman evilly leaned her head against her right shoulder and whispered a word of advice to her. _

_"What you saw just now whilst you were busy throwing attacks at me..." the black haired woman spoke, a thick German accent laced her words. "Is what happens when you attack blindly, thinking that you can win over your opponent just because you were crowned with all sorts of toy medals in high school." _

_Murrue froze, speechless when she felt Natarle's free arm snaked its way around her waist. Suddenly, Murrue felt her brain computing in thoughts that shouldn't even be present in the midst of a combat situation. She hated Natarle but loved her at first sight. Natarle thought Murrue the meaning of humiliation and the younger bitch probably knew that Murrue enjoyed being toyed around like that by her and her only. _

_The soldier only watched as the combat commander's hand roamed around her waist and teasingly stroked her chest. A part of Murrue suddenly felt impatient. She wanted to feel the younger woman's hands roam underneath her tight starch white uniform jacket and stroke her bare skin. She felt dirty and mad that Natarle was treating her as if she was her property but part of her felt that she just wanted Natarle to treat her like a slave. _

_"This is what happens when you get toyed around with your opponent." Natarle purred into her ears. "You can say its the consequences of attacking blindly." _

_"Oh, and that is all you can do, right?" Murrue snapped, attempting to be a smart ass. "Avoid my attacks and restrain me?" _

_Natarle released Murrue from her grip. Murrue could smell the strong scent of wild lavenders on her clothes as the seductive combat commander strode up to her and gestured for Murrue to try again. Murrue examined the combat commander in training and wondered vaguely how was Natarle capable of attempting hand to hand combat in a tight uniform skirt and jacket. The more she eyed Natarle, the more Murrue felt self-conscious of herself. _

_Natarle had a slim figure and the uniform exaggerated on that hourglass figure. But whatever that was, Murrue wanted the match to end ASAP. She got up, poised herself for attacking the other woman. Natarle simply crossed her arms and waited. Murrue charged up at Natarle and just when Murrue was about to crack the younger woman's jaw, Natarle dived to the side gracefully. _

_Murrue turned around in confusion, wondering how Natarle could move with such a speed. The moment Murrue found that Natarle had dived right behind her like a ninja, Murrue felt a hard roundabout kick being delivered to her skull. While it wasn't hard enough to break her neck, Murrue knew that if Natarle had applied more force to her kick, her neck would've been snapped off completely from her spinal cord. _

_Black spots appeared before Murrue's vision but Natarle didn't even give her time to recover. The young trainee immediately delivered a clean punch to her stomach as soon as she'd delivered her kick. Another punch to her gut sent Murrue flying back against the wall. _

_"And that...is what basically happens when you underestimate your opponent." Natarle stood before Murrue, crossing her arms. _

_Murrue wiped off a trickle of blood from the side of her mouth as Natarle began to walk off. _

_"Never underestimate your enemy." Natarle reminded before strutting off towards the bunks._

Murrue was constantly reminded of that rule by Natarle throughout her whole experience in the first war on board the Archangel.

Apparently, she'd forgotten that and earned herself a nice big mistake with the Minerva.

What Murrue didn't know was that, the Angels are always at the mercy of the Gods and Goddesses. Talia was going to ensure that this little Archangel of Justice knew where her place was by handing Murrue a judgement.

In all the Archangel's blood filled glory, Mars, the God of war stood by the Messiah as the game of chess reached its intense climax.

The Goddess of Mercy could only remember one last memory of the Angel who'd reversed the judgement and used it against her.

"In the final moments of a dying dream, what is it that you ask yourself..? Or..when tangled in the shadows who is it that you plead to..? God..Or the Devil..?" The older captain questioned.

Maria Vernes paused to look at the blonde haired woman beside her. "I have so many dying dreams. In each and every moments of those dreams, I'd always asked myself where did it all went wrong and why that dream turned into a nightmare."

She choose her words carefully before continuing. "When tangled in shadows, I'll try to crawl my way out. But if I am really at the mercy of someone, I plead neither to God or to the Devil."

"I do not plead. I call upon the name of Death to free me." Her hands tightened around the grip on Natarle's dogtags. The clutch on the piece of accessory was so tight that blood started to flow down from her palms. "And I know that as of this moment, there is still one dying dream that is awaiting to be fulfilled by Death alone."

Murrue watched as the Messiah fort exploded into nothing but star dust. She felt the Hawk of Endymion's arms wrapped securely around her waist from behind her as she and the Archangel crew members forcibly took in the sight before them.

The captain of the Archangel wondered why couldn't she be the one to die that night.


End file.
